I'll Give You My Dreams
by M-useless100
Summary: He'd been forced to maintain an aloof demeanor in the past few days. He'd never been given the chance to grieve for the loss of the man who had meant so much to him. So I did the only thing I knew how to do.


A/N Not much to say about this one. discovered it buried in my google docs so I dusted it off, freshened it up a bit and have posted it here. hope you enjoy!

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**-1-**

Sweat pours down my face but it goes unnoticed. It's the least of my problems right now. I raise my arms creating a wave of water to block the fire heading for me. Snuffing it out my wave turns to hot steam. As I thrust my arms forward in a series of fluid motions I can feel the water's uncharacteristic heat. I push it forward without hesitation at the fire bender.

My opponent smirks at me, raising his own arms. He punches his fists forwarded sequentially. Right, left and follows with a swirling kick. They punch through the mist hurtling toward me. Choosing to dodge instead of exhausting myself further by blocking it. I try not to flinch as the flames move within inches of my already heated skin. I face the man before me, deciding on my next attack. Underestimating his stamina, I'm caught off guard as he strikes first. I reel backwards, loosing my footing.

"Ah!" I squeak as I cradle my hand. It's burnt. I sigh and scowl up at the approaching figure. "Thanks so much…"

Zuko approaches me with a blank expression. "You should keep fighting, Katara. If you ever find yourself in a battle with someone, they won't stop just because you're injured."

I frown up at him, as he offers me a begrudging hand. I sigh and raise my burnt hand angrily. He shrugs, turning his back to me. "You shouldn't quit just because you get a little hurt."

"I know that," I mumble in annoyance. How many times has he told me that exact thing? I'd lost count already. Ever since Iroh passed away he'd seemed to have built a stronger wall between him and everyone else. Just when I'd thought I'd broken through it…

"I think we'll take a break now," Zuko mutters, glancing at me from the corner of his good eye. I just sight in response, staring after him as he heads toward the stairs.

"Why don't you ever open up to me like you used to?"

The quiet question halts his exit. After a tense moment he turns around to face me. Crossing his arms a bitter smirk takes hold of his expression. I try not to wince at the familiar sight. "Katara," his voice is full of condescension, "you always fool yourself into thinking you're everyone's best friend. Well guess what- you can kiss a wound but that doesn't make it better." " He shoves his hands into his pockets non-chalantly and heads toward the staircase leading below deck.

Standing I thrust the water running around the deck over the side in frustration. Pain flares in my burnt hand and my anger threatens to boil over. Taking a deep breath to reign it in I try to see through Zuko's condescension. I know it's the desperate attempt of a lonely man trying to keep anyone from seeing his pain.

Sighing, I think about the rest of the gang. Sokka and Suki had gone back to Kyoshi Island. That was several years ago now. Happily settled it seemed there was a new child arriving almost every year. They had naturally found leadership roles in the Kyoshi community and she received updates on their thriving people in between stories of accidental adventures and silly anecdotes involving the kids.

Aang had gone in search of surviving air benders. Over the years he'd accumulated a relatively sizeable community of non benders who's ancestors had moved away from the temples before the genocide. Living in the shadows over the course of the war they were now slowly emerging.

I can't suppress a smile as I remember Aang's most recent letter. He'd mentioned a young woman of air bender descent named Yuki several times. Apparently she was not only pretty, intelligent and kind but she showed signs of having uncultivated bending abilities. Perhaps there was hope for Aang's love life as well.

Then there was Toph, of course. An incurable wanderer. After a year at home she'd told her parents that their relationship was healthiest with some distance between them. She'd set off to blaze a trail. Initially she'd helped Aang in his search, then when things seemed to be going really well she moved on to hone her bending skills. After disappearing for a year and a half she sent word from a small village in the outskirts of the Earth Kingdom that she would be visiting the Earth King to talk about getting the Sand Bending Tribes of the desert proper citizenship and rights. Apparently she'd been living with them and witnessed first hand the abuse they'd endured over the years by the darker side of the government.

While taking on the ultimate powerhouse she met Lev. The daughter of an aristocrat. Apparently she'd grown up under similar restrictive circumstances. A free thinking and capable young woman she expressed her independence in her own way. Wildly cunning the girl had created several 'marketable' ideas that swindled dozens of aristocrats out of huge sums of money, becoming more and more involved in her Robin Hood type escapades until she met Toph. The two immediately hit it off and have been inseparable ever since. The unlikely pair had been a shock to just about everyone but by now their novelty had worn off.

I'd stayed behind in the Fire Nation though not for a lack of options. Zuko was frighteningly alone and with his uncle sick my heart had gone out to him. Sinking down onto the deck I think back to that time while absently bending water to my burnt hand.

His uncle had become sick a few weeks after the Fire Nation appeared to be heading toward stability. After Aang defeated Ozai, Zuko surprised everyone by offering his nation a choice. After generations of evil tyrants, he offered his people the right to rule themselves. They took the offer and nearly three months later, they elected their first leader; Wang Lee- the charismatic son of a coal miner.

Nearly a year after the election when it seemed like no one was going to assassinate the new Fire President, I began to really notice Iroh's condition. He was thinner than I'd ever seen him and his quiet demeanor did not reflect the serenity I had once associated with him. The man was tired I had realized. He was an old man ready to move on to see his lost wife and son. My eyes fill with tears as I remember that day not just because the man had been like a second father to me, but because I knew that Zuko wouldn't be able to handle it.

Days later, Iroh was found in his bed having died peacefully in his sleep.

A few stray tears escape while I remember the man who had become family. More threaten to spill over as I remember Zuko's reaction. On the day of the funeral I'd sought him out before the event began

"Zuko, I-"

"There you are Katara." he says cutting me off. "I was wondering if you wanted to walk with me at the head of the processional. You were close with Uncle also." he says matter-of-factly.

"Uh…sure. Yeah we were." I reply taken off guard. "Zuko, I just wanted to-"

"Okay. The sages will be arriving with Uncle's dais any second now." He motions dismissively behind us toward the big double doors. "Then the music will begin and we'll lead the procession to the ceremonial cremation grounds." He points out past the curtain separating us from the crowd gathered to mourn for Iroh. He glances back around the room searching for something else.

"Are you okay?" I quickly ask before he can say anything else.

He pauses. "What do you mean?" he says a little too easily.

"I mean…" I didn't know if I could say it but someone had to. "Iroh passed away, Zuko. And you're acting like he's just another political figure. Do you even realize what's going to happen in a few minutes?" My voice is a little more than a whisper by the end of my sentence.

I see his jaw clench and regret my words as he stares at me with a hard expression. "Of course I realize what's going to happen, Katara. What do you think I've been doing for the past three and a half days? I've been making all the arrangements necessary for his cremation. Do you have any idea how big of a task that is? Especially with this new government? It's almost impossible! I had to negotiate with President Lee to be in charge. He saw this as his first display of political power and wanted to make it some disgusting show. Then there was organizing the sages which- Agni forgive me for saying this, but it's a wonder some of those dotty old men inspire as much respect as they do. Announcements had to be drawn up and posted all over the nation, not to mention his friends in all four nations. There was organizing the actual ceremony- the logistics, the agenda, the security.

He pauses his long winded speech and I watch as his expression tightens minutely. "There was the investigation." I can hear the disgust overflowing that statement. "The government needed to make sure he died '_naturally_.' I stood there while these men examined his home and went through his possessions. I was at the morgue with him while they poked and prodded his body! I was questioned and accused! And that's not even half of it! So don't tell me that I don't know what's about to happen out there! It'll be the best thing that's happened all week!" By the end of his speech Zuko's carefully calm voice had risen to a shout. He stands before me eyes ablaze, chest heaving.

I begin to realize now what he'd been through. He'd been forced to maintain an aloof demeanor while he dealt with officials, noblemen, and sages the past few days. He'd never been given the chance to grieve for the loss of the man who had meant so much to him. So I did the only thing I knew how to do. I threw my arms around him and hugged him fiercely as my own tears fell.

He remains stiff as I hold him but I can feel him trembling despite his awkwardness. Then all at once he slumped into me; the trembling turning into deep, wracking sobs. He leans his head onto my shoulder, not even able to return to the embrace while he sobs into my neck. I grieve for Iroh but also for Zuko who has so much on his shoulders and no one to guide him now.

Suddenly the huge double doors are thrown open and in walks the processional with Iroh's body held aloft on a beautifully decorated platform. I feel Zuko tense as the doors bang against the wall. He is tense suddenly as the sound echoes around the room.

Slowly he lifts his head and unwraps my arms from around him. Gripping my arms painfully, he looks over to the processional and stares at Iroh's body. The solemn fire sages hesitate in their march at the sight of us. Releasing me he steps back and whispers fiercely at me. "In the fire nation grief is a quiet and private affair. You would do well to remember that."

I watch in shock as he turns to the sages commanding them with an imperial flick of his hand. Then he throws back the curtain to reveal a sea of people dressed in white, the national mourning color.

"Are you coming?" he asks then he steps forward without waiting for a response. With tears still frozen on my face, I numbly follow after him.

For the silent twenty-five minute walk to the ceremonial cremation site at the highest hill in the city, I sneak glances at Zuko. He seemed to have recovered his façade, but it was more determined now. Almost harsh. I let my own tears freely fall, but as I glance at the sea of faces that watch on either side of us, I am met with the same emotionless expressions. The rest of the ceremony was a blur of unfamiliar tradition, but one thing I do remember. Not once did I ever hear a sniffle, see a tear, or find any indicator of grief in any face but my own.

Ever since that day, Zuko has refused to let me see what he feels or thinks, aside from disapproval. We spar and travel and talk only about things that stay safely away from his true thoughts or emotions. The only time I ever see him express genuine passion is when he debates with leaders about creating ties within the nations.

Shortly after his Uncle passed Zuko and I had been sent as ambassadors on a Peace Campaign. Traveling once again we'd spent nearly every minute with each other. I knew I was right to stay behind.

With renewed determination I release the water around my healed hand and race for the stairs. "Wait!" I run after him bumping clumsily into his back when I overestimate my speed. "Wait," I repeat breathlessly.

"What do you want?"

"I want you to stop being a jerk and accept the fact that we're friends." Zuko seems surprsied by my honesty but he's unrelentingly sour.

"Katara, why don't you go back to the Avatar and your friends?" He says it like an accusation.

This was not the response I'd imagined. I stare into his golden eyes in surprise. Some emotion lingers there, but I can't place what it is. "Do you want me to?" I ask and I can hear the hurt in my voice.

He stares at me for another moment before turning away and leaving my question unanswered.

"Because you need me more," I finally shout angrily. He would never send me away. We both sense that because he sighs heavily as he continues walking down the narrow hallway. His gait is slow, the closest thing to an invitation he's willing to offer. I follow after him knowing he will speak when he's ready. We finally reach the door to his room, both still stubbornly silent. His tense posture has always been an indicator of hidden emotion beneath his cool exterior.

"You know what I realized recently?" he finally asks. I look at the the forlorn man before me and all my frustration slowly washes away. "We spend so much time looking out at the horizon wondering exactly what's out there, but the ocean is the only one to ever reach it." Zuko looks down at me with a contemplative expression.

"Now that's not true," I reply. "The ocean pretty much hogs the horizon all to itself but every now and again the sun touches it for just a moment."

Hesitantly I rest a comforting hand on his arm. He tenses once more before sighing heavily. "Will I see you at dinner?"

I nod.

"Good, I want to talk to you about something."

I reply with a quiet okay, afraid I'll send him running for his usual hostile persona. As I turn away he grabs my hand, keeping me there, and my heart leaps in response to this small display of affection. Looking back at him with surprise he searches my expression. Distrust, uncertainty and doubt flit across his expression. For a moment I think I can see a hint of something else, but like before I'm unable to decipher his exact feelings.

Finally, he releases me after giving my hand a small squeeze. "See you later." And then he disappears past his metal door, leaving me alone in the hallway as I listen to the quiet click of his locked door.


End file.
